Extending a Hand
by Tarklovishki
Summary: In Half-Blood Prince, Harry nearly kills Draco with the Sectumsempra curse, but never apologises for it, even though he was upset that he'd done it. Here is a short fic of Harry apologising. Mentioning of slash.


_Extending a Hand_

_By Tarklovishki_

The Sectumsempra Curse …

After detention with Snape, Harry's feet carried him away from the Gryffindor Tower on their own accord. He couldn't think of anything else but Draco stumbling back, his pale hands reaching for his blood soaked chest. Harry could have killed him, and no matter how much of a git Draco could be, he didn't deserve to die like that. If Snape hadn't have come past the bathroom—for purposes Harry would never understand unless he was tailing Draco—and muttered the counter-curse, Draco could very well have been dead by now.

He blinked in surprise when he found himself face to face with the doors leading into the infirmary. Could he go in there and face Draco after what he'd done? Could he apologise to Draco Malfoy, who'd been his enemy since day one? He didn't know, but he was about to find out. Gathering all his courage in one breath, Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside. The lighting from the candles bathed the infirmary in a dense orange glow, illuminating the figure of Draco Malfoy. Whether the blond was awake or asleep remained to be seen, as Harry stood too far away to be certain. Draco breathed in and out so deeply he could have been asleep. But Harry needed to make sure before he walked out of the infirmary with the same knot in his chest he came in with.

Draco's bed was the only occupied bed in the infirmary, which Harry was grateful for, because anything could happen, and he wouldn't want any other occupants to scream bloody murder like Moaning Myrtle did. Of course, Myrtle's screaming probably saved Draco's life. When he got within ten feet of the bed, he could see that Draco was, indeed, awake. His complexion was deathly pale, the silver outline of the Sectumsempra scar could be seen on his partially exposed shoulder. Casting Muffliato at Madam Pomfrey's office so she wouldn't come running, Harry stepped up to Draco's bed.

Draco's eyes flickered to him once, and then did a double-take, horror in his eyes. Harry's breath caught at how terrified and suspicious Draco looked at him. Never before had either of them been terrified of the other, and to know that he had put that fear there hurt Harry more than anything could have at that moment. Despite their rivalry, Harry had never really wanted Draco to fear him.

"Before you shout for help," Harry said hurriedly, "you should know I've casted Muffliato. She won't hear you."

Draco took a shuddering breath. "Come to finish the job, have you?" His voice was incredibly weak and hoarse, as if he'd shouted his lungs to some invisible expiry date. He gulped convulsively. "I don't see the honour in killing a person when they can't even reach for their wand. But then again, Potter, you're not the one to have much honour, are you?"

Harry wasn't even tempted to rise and nip at the bait. How could he, when the last time he had, Draco nearly ended up dying from serious contusions?

"Draco, I know you don't want me in here –" Draco snorted contemptuously at that, "– but I'm here to say I'm sorry."

Draco arched a disbelieving brow. "You're apologising? You?"

Since when does the 'Great Harry Potter' apologise to people like Draco? When someone attempts to kill a Malfoy – as many people have before – they are proud of their attempts and vow never to rest until they're buried in the ground. Why would Harry go against that and apologise? He's made threats to kill Draco before, what was different now?

Harry resisted the urge to scowl. "Yes, it's me. When you nearly kill your rival by accident, don't you think saying sorry is the best way to go? I'm not going to sit on your bed and cry and hug you, if that's what you want. So I'll save myself the embarrassment and do it the normal way." He extended his hand. "I'm sorry."

Looking down at the hand, Draco had a flashback to when they were eleven, and how Harry had denied his hand and, by extension, his friendship. He had a mind not to shake the hand, because he wanted Harry to know how being rejected felt. And besides, what if this was some kind of trick? What if Harry was leading him into some kind of trap? Maybe it was the after-effects of that stupid curse Harry put on him, but a guy needed to make sure, right?

"Draco?" Harry prompted, twitching his hand.

Honestly, Draco wished that Madam Pomfrey would come in and check on him, just so that she could shoo Harry away from his bedside. But if Harry was right and she couldn't hear him, she definitely wouldn't come running down the hall for a person who was making no noise. Once more, Draco wanted to curse Harry to dust.

"Okay, Draco, I'll say it again; I'm sorry." Harry drew in a deep breath. "I promise that this will be the first and last time you meet the Sectumsempra curse. I did not know what the curse did; I found it in a book I read. If I knew how horrible it was, I never would have used it. The caption beneath the curse only said 'for enemies,' and we're not the best of friends, are we? I'm sorry."

"If I accept your apology," said Draco slowly, still staring at Harry's hand like it was a venomous snake, "will that make you leave me alone from now on? I know you've been following me."

Harry's heart caught in his throat. How the hell had Draco known? He'd been using the Invisibility Cloak half the time!

"Yeah," he said, trying to sound calm, when in reality he was mentally kicking himself for being seen. Maybe an Auror was too far out of his reach. "Yeah, I'll leave you alone if you accept my apology."

"Apology accepted," Draco muttered after a couple of minutes, and for some reason he sounded … sad. He reached out and took Harry's hand, ignoring the slight flutter in his chest about being able to touch some part of Harry, even if it was his hand. "Now get out of here before Madam Pomfrey comes in here, I don't want to have to explain this."

Harry's lips curved upwards in an amused smile, he shook Draco's hand once and then let it fall, backing away toward the door, never taking his eyes of Draco's form.

"See you around, Draco."

"It's Malfoy to you!" Draco scowled, but his heart did another leap to hear his name rolled off of Harry's tongue like that.

"Whatever," Harry called back, turning around and pushing open the doors, disappearing from sight.

**The End.**

See what happens when a much more mature Harry starts apologising for his mistakes? God, Harry in the books is just so dense and … unbelievable! If he was truly repentant on what he'd done to Draco, he would have apologised. Anyway, did you like my 'version' of the apology? It's probably similar to other stories, because there's not much you can really write about when Draco's stuck in the infirmary. If my story is similar to anyone's, it is purely a coincidence. Just making sure I don't get flame, even though it's 3am and slightly chilly.

Love you all,  
Tarklovishki


End file.
